


A Friendly Bet

by holysmotez



Series: Foolish Wagers & Shenanigans [1]
Category: The Outer Worlds (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Captain's perspective, Come Swallowing, Crack, Daddy Kink, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Felix perspective, Kinda, M/M, MILD - Freeform, Prostitution, Public Blow Jobs, Ridiculousness, Verbal Humiliation, absurdity, cock-measuring but with blowjobs, mentioned - Freeform, stupid bets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:13:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22323877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holysmotez/pseuds/holysmotez
Summary: You were only gone for twenty minutes.
Relationships: Maximillian DeSoto/Felix Millstone
Series: Foolish Wagers & Shenanigans [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612510
Comments: 11
Kudos: 63





	A Friendly Bet

**Author's Note:**

> The premise, basically, is that you, The Captain, stumble in on a cock-sucking contest between Max and Felix. I don't know. I just wanted to write something for these two idiots. This fic also takes place before you complete Max's personal quest, too. Because that Max is a mess. Also, I know that Max's default clothes have pants, but I took some creative liberties...

By the mercy of all that is good and lawful, you finally make it back to the Unreliable. You could kiss her steel-plated floor sometimes. You groan as you collapse back against the door as it closes, sealing away the too-bright lights and ceaselessly clanking machinery. They are all behind you now, at least for a brief respite while within the confines of this trusty tin can. 

What should have been a quick, five-minute errand somehow morphed into void-damned twenty, and you should have known better. Accomplishing anything in this colony was always a void-blasted ordeal. Why would something as mundane as grocery shopping be any different? How could you ever forget that you still live in a fucking nightmare where every human, mechanical, and vending machine alike is trying to upsell you out of your every last bit, at every step of a transaction? No, you would not like a mock applesauce-of-the-month subscription. No, you don’t want to pay out your arse for the privilege of being a test subject for the newest vodka flavors. Yes, your sidearm works just fine, fuck you very much. And no, you won't be interested a mystery pack for fucking toiletries.  
  
And what’s worse? Suffering through all that neon with a Primal-sized hangover. Whatever. At least you secured the caffenoids, Catch-Up, and a little hair-of-the-canid to remedy last night’s bender with your crew. And at that, you smile. 

If you had cockles left in your thawed-out heart, they’d be mighty warm at the moment. Last night was the first time really cutting loose since Phineas pulled your ass out of the Hope like a Frozen Dinner past its expiration. After that stroke of luck, your intrepid collection of strays and misfits has been the best damn thing to happen to you since waking up in this Law-forsaken colony. If that ain’t worth at least one toast or five, then the mad doctor ought to just go ahead and put you back on ice.

Goods in tow, you push off from the door and twist loose your helmet, blowing out a long-suffering sigh as the recycled air hits your sweaty brow. As per usual, ADA greets your arrival. "Welcome back, Captain,” she says, chipper. You wait for the light joke, or for her to expound upon her usual unhealthy interest in the SAM unit's latest activities. 

But instead, she informs you, "Felix and Max are settling a friendly bet in the kitchen."

You pause mid-stride. You purse your lip as you dissect that mildly ominous statement. Around the time you left, you were pretty sure the both of them - in a rare moment of peace and quiet - had been nursing their own mild hangovers at the dining table. Well, mostly quiet. Felix had been playing catch with himself by bouncing his tossball against the wall. Max, on the other hand, seemed to be keeping a lid on himself by burying himself in one of his tomes. Both seemed better off than you, but no less eager for the ‘cure’ you now held in the baggie dangling from your wrist as prescribed by your resident hangover expert, Nyoka. 

There was also ADA's particular emphasis on 'friendly'. And this was Felix and Max we're talking about. Does not compute. 

Ultimately, however, you shrug. In all likelihood, the fuss was over another tossball match, as per usual. "Thanks ADA," you call out, making a beeline up the stairs, hauling the groceries up with you. 

But the time you wind around and up the final steps, however, your initial confusion slams right back into you like a haunting ghost. Down the hall, you spot Ellie and Nyoka off to the left side, their backs to you. They seem to be spectating something, but the view is obscured. As you shuffle on towards the commotion, growing increasingly concerned by the second, Nyoka lets loose a hearty whoop.

Distantly, SAM blares: "Customer! Did you know that this unit may be configured to accommodate all sorts of unsanitary behaviors?"

"Look at that, even our dumbass bolt bucket thinks you're a bunch of unbelievable perverts," Ellie says. 

Unsanitary behaviors? _Perverts?_ What the ever-loving Laws-

"Captain! Uh..."

You startle, jerking as you pass Parvati's quarters. You glance inside, finding Parvati as pale as a sheet. 

"Parvati? Are you alright?" you ask. 

"Sorry if I scared you, Captain," she whispers, stepping up to the threshold. She glances towards the kitchen area as if there were a three-headed raptidon lurking in that direction. "But before you go in there you, um, you ought to know Felix and the vicar, well...they..." she trails off, her cheeks now flaring red.

"What's going on?" you ask. "ADA mentioned something about a ‘friendly’ bet?"

Parvati snorts, suppressing a wry laugh. She quickly clears her throat. ”That’s one way of puttin’ it. All I know is that there are supposed to be rules about this sort of thing between folk who serve on a ship, right? I think folks tend to phrase it, 'don't shit where you eat'?"

Okay. What. 

"The fuck," you say, dumping the stupid groceries right on the floor so you can deal with whatever awaits you just beyond the shoulders of Ellie and Nyoka. 

"I leave for twenty minutes," you grumble as you wedge yourself between them.

And that's it. That's the last intelligent thought you have. Every word in your brain, gone. Whoosh, bye-bye.

There's Max. And there's Felix. Felix is seated in a chair pulled out from the table, trousers shucked down around his ankles, and Max? Max is on his knees, with his lips firmly locked around the latter's cock and a finger up Felix’s ass. His frock is hiked up to his nipples, utterly starkers otherwise, and he's loosely fondling his own bait & tackle as he seems determined to give Felix the filthiest, noisiest blowjob in Halycon history. Felix, for his part, sighs like he’s seconds away from sweet, sweet oblivion. They're so into it they don’t even seem to notice your presence. 

"Oh, hey, the Captain's back," Nyoka, almost giddy with amusement, says beside your ear. “You’re just in time.”

Felix’s eyes snap open. _Now_ he notices you. He notices you so much, apparently, that he can’t pull his glazed eyes away from you when his hips begin to stutter, and a loud groan tears from his throat. A string of curses follow as Max’s throat works to swallow his orgasm down. 

"You pick up those caffenoids?" Nyoka asks casually.

Your brain can't even, so you just nod. Then, once your initial shock wears off to a dull confusion, you say, "Alright, who wants to start?"

"Oh, me. I'll start," Ellie says. "It was just after you left when Max finally blew his fucking stack..."

"He's still blowing stack by the looks of it," Nyoka remarks.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ellie rolls her eyes. “Anyway, like I was saying, it all started when Max finally had enough of Felix being, well, Felix…”

* * *

"Hey, Millstone."

Boom, thunk-smack. Boom, thunk-smack.

"Mister Millstone?"

Boom, thunk-smack. Boom, thunk-smack.

"Felix!"

Boom, thunk-smack. "What?"

"Would you kindly cease?"

"Sorry, didn't hear the magic word." Boom, thunk-smack.

Chair legs scrape. Boom, thunk-smack. Felix bites his lip, fighting down a smile, and keeping a lid on just how much satisfaction it gives him to get under the vicar's skin. Boom, thunk-smack. Max certainly isn't the first papered-over clergyperson to cross his path. Boom, thunk-smack. Pretending like they’re so damned smart and in control underneath all their smugness. Smart enough for big words and big books, but none of them can seem to figure out that they're just another bunch of useful idiots for the Board. Boom, thunk-smack. Or just plain idiots.

But Max, though. Felix pauses before he can release the tossball for another satisfying boom, thunk-smack, because by now Max’s shadow is darkening the floor, radiating menace like a void-damned corporate assassin. Arms crossed and with a murderous scowl crossing his wizened features, for a brief second he makes Felix worry if maybe he had bitten off more than he could chew this time. 

For as much shit as he might talk about the OSI and priests in general, it's also obvious that Max has some real iron underneath all that cloth. Max was definitely a mantisaur of a different stripe, that was obvious from the get-go. First of all, no other ordained man had possessed such a repressed bloodthirst and an obvious lack of lawfulness who wasn't just a marauder in OSI cosplay. Second of all, Felix had never seen a priest utterly blow away a raptidon, much less one the size of a truck with a well-placed shotgun blast. Like ever. And Max made it look easy. 

So he knows that behind that scowl, Max could be having some genuinely dark and terrifying thoughts. It was thrilling to be the focus of them. Was that a wrong reaction to have? Because Felix kind of loved it. Loved taunting _this_ Max out to play. What could he say? 'Playing with fire' was practically his middle name at this point. Felix Playing-With-Fire Millstone. Catchy.

"Is the word 'airlock'? Because that's where you and your tossball gear are going if I have to ask you again to knock it off," Max says. 

Felix shrugs. Arcs his arm. Lets go. Boom, thunk-smack. "Nah, because 'would you kindly cease, airlock' doesn't really make sense. It just makes you sound crazy. Crazier."

"Some might say it wouldn't kill you to practice a little respect. For your sake, I would like to remind you of just how right they are."

"And I remind you that respect isn't a given. You gotta earn it. Surprised prison didn't teach you that."

"Is that supposed to be some kernel of back-bay wisdom I'm supposed to be impressed by?"

Felix glances up to him, rolling his eyes. The effort makes him wince. Damned headaches. "No. I don't expect you to be impressed by anything the back-bays produce." Boom, thunk-smack.

"Why, Mister Millstone. I think that's the most self-awareness I've heard come out of you yet. Now I am impressed."

"That makes one of us, because I sure ain't much impressed with you. You think you know everything except for your stupid Equation. And _French._ " A lie, but only he had to know that.

"Do you boys ever stop arguing? And so _loudly?_ " Nyoka says, lifting her head up from the kitchen table as if it weighed a thousand pounds. She plunks it back down betwixt the pillow of her arms. 

“Not that I’ve seen yet,” Parvati says, stabbing a tray of reheated Fish Stix.

Muffled by her arms, Nyoka pleads, “Could you at least shut up until the Captain gets back with the goods?”

"You both really ought to just fuck and get it out of your systems already," Ellie says, rolling into the kitchen from her room. She lurches over to the fridge and pulls out a fresh brew. She might still be drunk from last night for all Felix could really tell. "And spare the rest of us from your non-stop flirting."

"Excuse me?" Max says, visibly appalled. 

"You heard me," Ellie goads, struggling for a second with the bottle cap. It pops off and she takes a long pull. After wiping her lip with her sleeve, she continues, "This much cattiness either means you want to kill or fuck each other. Knowing how both of you operate in the field, if the former hasn't happened already, then that leaves the latter. You should really do something about it. They say getting laid on the regular is good for the, uh, the uh...” She thinks, taking another pull off her bottle. “ _Constitution._ ”

"And is that your medical opinion?" Max says. 

"No, it's just my opinion. Unlike some of us, I don't have to appeal to an authority in order to convince myself of what’s blatantly obvious."

Max scoffs. “At least I don’t misconstrue fantasies for facts, Ms. Fenhill.”

“Ooh, using my surname and everything. Someone’s a mite defensive.”

“I’m hungover. I reserve the right.”

Parvati says, “Hey, everyone?” 

The room hushes as attention of those present falls on her. Her gaze darts about the room, and she clears her throat. “Uh, not that it’s any of my business, but do we really have to discuss this right here? Right now?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Nyoka adds. 

Meanwhile, Felix can’t get the idea of fucking Max out of his skull. Or getting fucked by this psychopath. It’d probably be the angriest, meanest, hottest lay in Halcyon. What was wrong with him? He wants to shrink into his chair until he disappears. 

Worse, he always found it uncomfortable being talked about in these oblique sorts of ways. So, he does what he always does in uncomfortable situations. He makes trouble. He says, "You know, Vic. You never did say how you got out of prison. I’m guessing they kicked you out because your blowjobs were just that terrible."

“Good grief,” Parvati sighs, returning to her Stix.

Max snaps back to him, affronted, but darkly amused. "Oh, you think you’re so hilarious. I can assure you, I’m better than any back-bay urchin, that's for sure,” he snaps.

Okay. That wasn't exactly the response Felix had expected from the vicar. And because he always was a leap-before-you-think sort of guy, he blurts out, “Wanna bet?"

At that, Nyoka jerks upright in her seat. Then, she just _cracks_ up. Shakes her head as she cackles like a lunatic who just heard the _best_ joke.

Max snorts. "Wanna bet? Wanna bet, he says? Did I just hear you right? You want to wager that you can perform a better blowjob than I can."

Felix bristles. If there was one thing that triggered the Millstone brand of defiance, it was being looked down upon. Especially by the likes of Board puppets. Even if it was over blowjobs. _Especially_ if it was over blowjobs. Chin high, he declares, "Damn right I do, because it's an easy win. Us _urchins_ were so good, ours actually had a name. The Back-Bay Blowie. Can you and your prison boast anything like that?"

Max _tsks_ , visibly reeling. He even has the nerve to look a little guilt-ridden. "I'm not really sure if that's something to boast about, son..."

"Alright, whatever," Felix says, leaning back, crossing his arms. While it's fun to imagine the vicar down on his knees, sucking down cock like the sluttiest prison bitch - maybe a little too fun, if his own awakening cock has anything to say about it - he doesn't really expect Max to rise to his bait. "But we're playing by tossball rules, then. Your forfeit, your loss. Figures you were all bark.”

But as he raises his arm to bounce the tossball once more, Max bares his teeth. Like some kind of feral canid impersonation. The ball boom-thunks against the wall and floor, but with the quickness of a bushsnake, Max snatches it from the air on its return.

"Hey!" Felix starts.

He shuts up when Max stoops and leans in close. Leans in real close. Somehow, Felix feels like he suddenly lost about six inches in height, even while sitting down. 

"You know what?" Max says, with that scary gleam in his eye. "You're on."

Parvati chokes, coughing up a piece of fish.

Felix wobbles in his chair, almost losing his balance from the force of his disbelief. He nearly chokes himself on his next breath. Did he just...? " _What?_ "

“Yeah, back up. What?” Ellie echoes from somewhere off to the side.

“Yes! Blowjob contest!” Nyoka cheers. “Stars, I love this ridiculous crew.”

“Blowjob-? You actually serious?” Felix asks. What was that phrase Max taught him? ‘Trust, but verify’?

Max straightens up, making like he’s examining the tossball between his fingers. "You lose your nerve already, son? I said, you're. On. And I bet if I win, I get to confiscate this tossball for an entire month."

"A whole month? But that's my lucky limited-edition Rangers ball!"

Shit. Genuine panic never looks good on anybody. Felix knows it was a mistake to give himself away like that when he darts his hand out to snatch back the ball. Max jerks it back out of reach, all devious-like. Felix growls. You know what? It’s no big deal. No big deal because he’s gonna win. "Alright, fine. But if I win— when, I win, I get to borrow one of your favorite books and do whatever I want with it. My pick. And for a whole month."

Max winces. It probably does cause him physical pain to imagine about one of his precious books being in the hands of someone like him. Good. Max sighs, then relents. "Fine," he spits out. "Since I doubt you’ve figured out how to even open one. I accept." 

Felix swallows, his throat suddenly having gone dry as Spacer's Choice saltuna. The determined look on such an admittedly handsome man should not be that sexy, and the topic of blowjobs isn't helping him any. This was actually happening. His cock kicks in his trousers. Oh, Lawful fuck. This couldn't be happening. This was so happening.

He clears his throat, glad when his voice doesn't crack when he says, "Hell yeah, preacher man. Let's do this. But, um," he glances around. “So like, right now?”

Max shrugs, but otherwise remains as impassive as stone. “Why not? You have plans come up?”

Felix flusters. “What? No. But...in front of everyone?”

Max says, “We need a way to keep ourselves honest, don’t we? But where are my manners. Let’s put it to the floor.”

“Oh, I was game the moment someone said ‘bet’. I can’t wait to see how this turns out,” Nyoka says. 

Ellie says, “What the hell? Can’t say I’ve ever judged a blowjob contest before.”

“Uh,” Parvati starts. “If you guys are really, actually doing this, then count me out. You do know the Captain is due back any minute, right?” 

Max says, “Not a problem, Ms. Holcomb. With you graciously bowing out, and SAM being as useful as sprat polish in this matter-“

“This SAM unit can polish any surface! Steel rods, polyurethane knobs, even wood!” SAM declares. 

Ellie chuckles. “You sure about that?”

Max clears his throat. “Anyway, as such, we may need a tie-breaker. So yes, right now. I’d hate for mister Millstone to lose your nerve and, what was that you said about tossball rules and forfeiture?”

Then the bastard sits down dead center of the sofa, legs spread like he was some kind of Byzantine picnic. It’s at that moment that Parvati chooses to make herself scarce, abandoning her Stix and fleeing down the hall towards the relative safety of her quarters. Ellie claims her perch along the kitchen counter, leaning back with bottleneck pinched between her fingers, observing like they were some kind of nature documentary. Nyoka chuckles, low and mischievous before snatching a chair from the table and taking a front row seat. Even SAM pauses in his work, turning slightly from where he was just scrubbing at some pipes. 

Felix’s knee bounces with a mind of its own. The hush that falls over the room makes him as anxious as anything about this. His nostrils flare as he grinds his teeth, still a bit miffed over his lucky tossball being trapped in the clutches of Max’s calloused fingers. He’s so amped up it’s almost a boner-killer. He clears his throat. “So who’s first?”

“You’re the one who threw down the gauntlet,” Max says. 

Felix gulps. 

“Besides, I thought you loved having an audience every chance you get. Is there something you’re embarrassed about? We’re all family here, aren’t we?” Max says, in that annoyingly genial way that all priestfolk like him do, yet it’s tainted by how Max looks at him though, like some yellow-bellied spratling ready to flee at the slightest noise. 

You know what? Fuck him.

“Fine,” Felix declares, raising his chin. He slips from his chair, never breaking Max’s gaze as he moves to kneel in front where Max is spread eagle. A flicker of amusement picks at the corner of Max’s lip. Fuck him so much. “Why don’t you lose the frock already, then?”

“Oh dear,” Max says, tutting. He spreads his legs even wider, the cloth of his habit pulling taut between them. “Did you forget the terms of the bet already? You were to show us _exactly_ how a Back Bay Blowie works, and be judged on its total merits. That precludes any assistance.”

Felix somehow bristles even more, doesn’t dare lower his chin nor his gaze. Nor does he throw a haymaker at this smug bastard, as much as every screaming atom in his body wants him to. Instead, he makes his first movements towards the hem of Max’s habit, hating how much he likes the pleased expression it earns him. Felix stoops, again never breaking eye contact as his fingers find their way under the cloth and lift it up over Max’s ankles, and past his knees. He shuffles forward to bunch it all at Max’s hips when he halts.

“Really?” Felix says.

Nyoka nearly chokes on her swig of ale. Ellie mumbles something like _I knew it._ SAM resumes cleaning the pipes.

“What?” Max says, in irritatingly coy fashion. “Bigger than you thought?”

“No fucking underwear under this thing? Really?” Felix says. He can’t believe this guy. “Doesn’t it, I don’t know, chafe?”

“The twins get warm and sticky while we’re out traipsing all over Halcyon. Can’t blame a guy for wanting a little freedom where he can manage to hide it. By the way, is this much hemming and hawing part of some sort of Back Bay Blowie ritual? Unless you don’t really want to do this…”

“No.” Felix says, probably a little too fast. “We’re doing this. Just shut up and take it.”

He doesn’t miss the way Max’s throat works around a hard swallow. Mumbles out a _well, alright then_ , as Felix tucks the habit behind Max’s thighs, and out of the way of his quarry. 

Max is half-hard already, and yes, he is bigger than Felix figured. The iron under the cloth isn’t solely metaphorical after all. Jerk. And he would have huge exhibition kink. Felix wonders what other kinds of things a sick, prison-taught bastard like him would be into. 

Nevermind that he’s about to cream his own pants over the fact that he’s about to suck Max off. Taste his cock, his come down his throat. He desperately tries not to dwell on that, but the pungent musk of Max’s nasty, sweaty balls alone just about does him in as he settles in between the muscled slabs of the vicar’s thighs. Felix runs his hands along those hard planks of flesh, pretending it’s for show, and that his nerves aren’t singing for him to do so. It settles him a bit, boosts his confidence when the brush of his knuckles along the vicar’s groin earns him a hiss and a sigh. Shit, he’s going to be jerking off to this for as long as he lives.

Snap out of it, Felix. Get your head in the game. This is just some asshole john, and he’s got the bits that’ll put food in your belly for a week. Give him a blowie he’ll be signing your praises about, so that more clients - and more bits - start coming your way. Hey, figure of speech. Whatever you do, don’t think about how much you’re rock hard over putting this particular asshole john’s cock in your mouth. 

It’s no use. He really is about to rip a hole in his own void-damned trousers. Max himself might be a kink. Or maybe it was the prospect of wiping the smug smile off this vicar’s face for a month. That’d be worth its weight in bits just by itself. Yeah. That’d be real worth it. Bonus if he wiped the smug looks off of everyone else in the room watching him. Damn if _that_ didn’t make his cock twitch.

Determination soaring, Felix leans in and gives Max’s ballsac a kitten lick before tonguing a full stripe over the supple flesh. Max, ever restrained, gives an appreciative hum. The old sofa cushion springs creak as he leans back. 

A lot of the Back Bay Blowie magic is about the tease. Felix doesn’t touch the vicar’s cock for the first few minutes, content to brush his lips, lave his tongue, and ghost his fingers across every other inch of delicious flesh within reach. Even as the vicar’s cock begins to plump in earnest, Felix won’t dare touch it until Max is squirming for it.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Max tries to complain, but the breathy tone doesn’t fool him. The first crack in the vicar’s composure comes sooner than Felix anticipated. 

“Based off your getting so hot and bothered under your collar I’d say he knows exactly what he’s doing,” Ellie says coolly.

“Yeah. Doesn’t look like you’re hating it so far,” Nyoka remarks.

“Shut up, all of you,” Max says, without any real bite. 

If that doesn’t boost his confidence. Max loses his next thought with a gasp when Felix gently sucks one of his balls into his mouth. Releases it with a loud, wet pop. Max was going to be so filthy under his habit by the time Felix was done with him. It does things to him to imagine Max getting off underneath his robes, and leaving himself wet and messy while they raid another bandit nest out in the wilderness. 

Felix sucks in his other testicle, lovingly massaging it with his tongue. Max fidgets in his seat at that, unable to stifle a groan. His cock was straining, veiny, and appeared almost painful now. Felix smiles. Won’t be long now.

“What the fuck, I thought you were going to blow me,” Max spits.

Felix pulls off to say, “Getting there. Aren’t you priests all about patience?”

“Just-,” Max starts, humping the air with short, desperate jerks of his hips. And that’s more jerk-off material logged into his memory banks.

“Just what?” Felix teases. 

“Suck my fucking cock,” Max demands. “A crueler man would have just throatfucked you by now.”

Felix almost pops. Thing is, he wants Max to be the crueler man. Because of him. It shouldn’t be so laws-forsaken hot. “Is that what you want to do?” Felix asks him innocently. “You want to fuck my throat, big man?”

“Fuck,” Max hisses.

Either Ellie or Nyoka whispers a holy shit, but Felix doesn’t care anymore he’s already licking a long, torturous stripe up the underside of Max’s straining cock. He’s about to have Max’s cock in his mouth, and whether the anticipation more torturous for him or Max, he’s not sure. Felix feels like he’s about to melt out of his own skin he wraps wet lips around the cockhead, sweeping up the precome with his tongue. Max clenches, barely keeping his ass planted in his seat. He’s surrounded by Max, his taste, his musk, his strength. It’s so heady a lesser man might have passed out by now.

But he was a back-bays brat. There’s no quittin’ now. Not when his self-respect - and his lucky tossball - are on the line.

Therefore, without any preamble or warmup, opens his lips, his jaw, his throat, and takes in the full length of Max’s cock until its head bumps the back of his throat.

There’s no reservation or priestly restraint in the groan that rips from Max. More beautiful, lusty noises start pouring from his lips as Felix pulls back and takes the length of him in again. In, out. Again, and again, until his lips are drenched and sloppy.

“Oh, fuck yeah. You really are a little back-bays whore underneath all that piss and vinegar, aren’t you?” Max says, scratching fingers across Felix’s scalp. Tugging at his ears.

He should be insulted. It shouldn’t be so fucking hot to hear Max call him that. He moans around the dick in his mouth. It’s embarrassing. Shit, come on, Felix. Be a professional here. The fate of your pride and your lucky ball is at stake.

But then, without his brain’s permission, his mouth pulls off and says, “Yeah, daddy. You want to fuck my face? Then fuck my face.”

Max’s response is unintelligible, but Felix is too far gone from lust and oxygen deprivation to really listen anyway. He swallows down Max’s cock. Swirls his tongue on the upstroke. That gets him a growl that’s almost _feral._ _Yes._ He next takes the vicar’s hands and plants them on his head. After a second delay, Max gets with the program and digs his fingers into Felix’s locks and starts to thrust his hips.

Tentatively, at first. For all Max’s ruthlessness - and maybe this was the lack of oxygen talking - Felix could respect that he seemed to want to be a decent person at his core. It was touching, really, that Max wanted to be so careful. Gentle, even. And with the likes of him. Probably didn’t totally trust Felix could take a respectable length like his. Or maybe he didn’t trust himself. That was a hotter explanation, so Felix went with that.

But after another minute of half-hearted thrusting, Felix pops off again, annoyed. Max grunts, signaling a similar state of mind. He meets Max’s glazed eyes and demands, in the plainest way possible, “Fuck. My. Face.”

Max’s lip twitches. It’s the only warning he gets when in the next second, Felix has a cock buried farther down his throat than he had ever taken in the back-bays. And Max keeps him there until he starts to sputter. Oh, void take him, _yes._ He barely gets enough oxygen in his lungs when Max pulls back and fucks his face. Fucks him like a rutting, snarling raptidon. Even with his experience Felix can’t help but choke around him, but Max doesn’t let up. Just keeps nailing the back of his throat and beyond with his ridiculous cock. Oh, _Laws._ Laws, Laws, _Laws._ That was more like it. 

“Finally,” Max starts, pounding himself into Felix’s face. “Is this what it takes? To shut you up? A cock in your smartass mouth?”

And damn him to the void. Felix moans. Brokenly, pathetically, snorting around his amazing cock. Fuck, yes. He never knew how much he needed Max to rail his face and humiliate him in front of everyone he's ever known more than a couple of seconds. He’s not sure if he’ll pass out or burst in his trousers first. Maybe both. 

“You need this, don’t you? This is what earns your respect, isn’t it?” Max says.

He can’t even respond, but it’s not like Felix could deny it. Max was destroying his dignity by the second. Before he can contemplate that level of humiliation, Max’s hips start to stutter, balls drawing up. Then, that familiar liquid heat explodes down his throat. “Yeah, take it,” Max orders, holding his head down. Caught off guard, Felix sputters and gags, and although he swallows the majority of it, some still manages to leak out. Crazy asshole didn’t even warn him.

Despite having his brain fucked into oblivion, Felix doesn’t indulge letting the vicar’s cock soften in his mouth, as much as he wants to entertain that fantasy. Maybe some other time. After blowing his load like that, there better be. For now, Felix pulls off immediately and wipes his puffy lips with his forearm as if it were all in a day’s work. He retakes his seat and crosses his arms as he waits for Max to collect himself after that capital-B Blowie. 

Seconds pass as Max returns to his own body. “Not bad,” he starts, as if he were loathe to admit it. As he tugs his habit back down over himself, he says, “I should have figured a gag reflex might have been bred out of you.”

“Asshole,” Felix spits. “You saying you wanna throw in the towel? Because it looks like you need one.”

“Ooh, he's got you there, Max. You're looking pretty fucking bothered,” Nyoka says. “I worried you almost died and went to your Architect for a second there.”

"That's not-" Max starts, gives up.

“Yeah. You definitely better be bringing your A-game now, mister vicar,” Ellie adds. 

The reviews were in. Felix sits back, reveling in his own smugness for a change. Yeah, Max. Beat that. “I think it’s time the vicar put my cock where his mouth is. Come on, Max. Show me what prison’s got on that.”

Okay, he doesn’t like that curl of Max’s lip. Like Felix had just gone and delivered himself like supper into a mantiqueen’s den.

Max says, “Ask and ye shall receive.”

And then, for what must be the hundredth time, Felix nearly paints his own trousers as he watches Max - proper, stuffy Max - get on his knees in front of Felix’s spread legs. He wishes he had a camera. There aren’t words in the common language to describe when Max reaches and deftly unzips his fly.

Max was about to blow him. He couldn’t think too hard about that statement or else this bet and his self-respect was lost, flushed right out the airlock. Airlock. Airlock, airlock, airlock. Laws, airlock. Max’s hands wrap around his rock hard dick, tugging it free into the cold recycled air. Airlock.

“Well, aren’t you just a snack yourself,” Max says without any hint of irony, and his mind short-circuits. Max just complimented his dick in the presence of others. Once again, he tamps down a premature orgasm. He was getting good and practiced at this. 

Roughly, Max takes the waistband of his open trousers and tugs. They slip down past his knees and Max lets them fall to his ankles. He’s exposed now, throbbing with plain and needy desire. It was embarrassing. As Max appraises him, and he fights the urge to squirm. 

“Well?” Felix prompts, wrestling back control of the situation. “Don’t let it intimidate you.”

“Oh, I’m not intimidated. Just worried you might burst the moment I put my lips on you.”

“Why don’t you shut up and find out?”

Max smirks, and Felix might have been pissed if he didn’t notice the fondness behind it. 

Then, he finds out. Max leans in, his hot breath flooding across his groin, and Laws, he might burst the moment Max puts his lips on him. Airlocks. Auntie Cleo. Fish Stix. Martin Callahan. He thinks of whatever can get him through the first contact of those hot lips against the skin of his aching cock. 

“Shit,” Felix hisses when those lips part, enveloping him. “Oh, _shit._ ”

Hot, velvety flesh surrounds him, and it’s so fucking good. Max’s mouth is so fucking good. It’s perfect. He almost gets sentimental about it. Fucking stupid is what it is. 

“You alright there, Felix?” Ellie asks. Kind of saves him, kind of ruins the moment.

“Yeah,” Felix croaks out. “Ain’t nothin’ special.” Groans when Max pulls back and sinks down. Getting him nice and slick for when Max reaches up to wrap his firm, calloused hand around him and stroke him along with his tight lips.

“Uh-huh,” Nyoka remarks, unconvinced. 

Max strokes the length of him, but leaves the head of his cock alone. It’s...nice. Reminds him of the times he’s indulged himself with a luxurious masturbation session he doesn’t want to end too quickly. In fact, that’s exactly what he imagines himself doing. Like he wants to edge himself. 

And that thought gives him a jolt of panic.

“Max,” Felix whispers. That can’t be what he plans on doing. He might actually die. 

Max hums around him. Only just teases him with a deft, expert swirl of his tongue around the head of his cock. It happens so fast it punches the air from Felix’s lungs. Thinks he might be coming, but then, Max is back to stroking just his length. Pulling him back from the brink. No. Laws, no.

Knuckles brush his balls. Rips an embarrassingly loud moan from his throat when Max starts to massage them. No, no, no. It’s overwhelming. Another swirl of the tongue, and Felix jerks, ramming his cock into Max’s face. The latter grunts, but takes it like a champ. Goes back to stroking him and rubbing his balls. Licks him again. Yanks him right back from tumbling over the edge. 

“Max!” Felix bellows. This wasn’t fair. Max was truly a psycho. How could his mouth feels so void-damned good and so agonizing at the same time? This kind of torture should be illegal. Maybe a blowjob didn’t get Max kicked out of prison after all. Maybe this is what got him _in._

He thinks Max might finally have mercy on him when he knuckles leave his balls. He thinks wrong.

“What the fuck!” Felix blurts.

Something - and what could only be Max’s finger - slips in between the crack of his ass. 

“W-wait!” 

Max pops off of him. He’s sweaty, flushed, and looks awfully horny again. It startles Felix how much he likes looking at him like this. Even as he looks genuinely concerned. “No?”

Felix swallows a lump. His clicking throat sounds too loud in the quiet kitchen. His heart does a funny thing in his chest when he realizes Max was asking his permission. He was used to most people just doing whatever they want. Especially if they were Board stooges. He’s not really sure how to handle this.

His cock, however, needs relief. He finds his voice. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re judging on total merits, right? You just surprised me,” Felix admits. “So keep going.”

Max smiles. Returns Felix to his incredible heat of his mouth. Moans like a back-bay whore when, this time, the pad of Max’s prodding finger finds the tight ring of his asshole. SAM says something. Probably because Max was such a filthy bastard. He loves it. Loves it even more when Max doesn’t bother edging him anymore. When he presses in with his finger - not rough, but just on the side of too much - and starts to suck him off like something out of a banned aetherwave. It’s wet, sloppy, hot. His cock bumps the back of Max’s throat. He shuts his eyes. Can still find the taste of the vicar lingering on the back of his tongue. He’s gonna...he’s about to…

“Max, I’m-“

He throws his head back. 

"Oh, hey, the Captain's back. You’re just in time,” Nyoka says.

He startles. Finds the Captain standing between where Nyoka and Ellie had gathered ‘round closer. Max crooks his finger.

And he fucking _comes._

He comes groaning, humping Max’s hot, wet mouth like a unruly canid, eyes locked with the Captain’s as he rides out his entire blessed orgasm. He glazes over. Too fucking blissed out to be completely mortified. He just came in Max’s mouth. Max was horny for him again. It was all too heady for him to care about where he even was anymore, let alone the bet. Oh yeah, the bet.

Nyoka addresses the Captain as if this were any other morning, and it was completely normal to hold a blowjob contest before lunch. “You pick up those caffenoids?”

And while he and Max extract themselves from each other, tuck themselves away, and catch their breath, Ellie delivers to the Captain the summary of events leading to the present circumstances. Max wipes his lip with a sleeve, returning to his seat on the sofa cushion, and appearing way more composed than he had any business being after what they just did. Meanwhile, Felix feels like a sticky, cum rag. He just had Max’s finger up his ass. He hadn’t felt so well-used in a long while. 

But he had to hand it to Ellie. Maybe she was right about fucking the mutual aggravation out of their systems. He wasn’t nearly as irritated by Max’s presence as he usually was.

SAM, ever the master of timing, chooses that moment to blare: “WARNING! Bodily fluids detected! Reminder for your safety: please keep at least [two] meters from your SAM unit while decontamination of surfaces is in progress.”

In fact, he feels a blush creep up his neck when amusement- no, downright _laughter_ starts to show on Max’s face as Ellie recounts what happened. It’s infectious. Felix grins, and he can’t contain it. This was kind of ridiculous. Really fucking ridiculous.

“And that’s when you walked in,” Ellie concludes. 

After a pause, the Captain says, “So?” 

“So, what?” Ellie says.

“So, who wins the bet?”

Felix knew he adored his Captain for good reason.

“Yes, I’m eager to bring this matter to a decisive close,” Max says. Picks the lucky tossball back up from where he had placed it on the cushion.

“Felix, by a hair,” Nyoka says. Max frowns. Yes. Thank you, Nyoka. 

But Ellie then says, “Really? I thought the vicar totally out-freaked him by a mile. Max wins.”

An insufferable amount of smugness returns to Max’s features. Screw you, Ellie. Felix thought they were friends.

“It’s a tie, then,” Max says. “Well then, Captain, based on the merits of what you’ve heard and witnessed, who do you think should win?”

The Captain‘s brow knits. Seems to ponder it for a moment. “Hard to make a fair call when I wasn’t here to witness the majority of it.”

Oh, no. Despite being drained dry, and against all reason that was left behind, his cock throbs. Shares another look with Max, who looks equally alarmed by the Captain’s hesitation. And the only possible remedy.

“Captain, are you about to suggest what I think you’re about to?” Nyoka asks. “Because you might have to pick us up some more booze.”

“Tonight, 1900 hours. I expect you both to report here ready to do this again,” the Captain says. No, orders.

“Captain!” He and Max protest at the same time.

“1900 hours,” the Captain repeats. 

Nyoka cackles. 

Ellie says, “Hey, that’s fair. You both knew a tie was a possibility, and you just couldn’t wait to jump each other anyway.”

And damn it to the void, she was right. They did get a little too carried away. Perhaps they were a little too eager. Max slumps back against the sofa. With further protest dying in his throat, Felix does the same against his chair. 

“Alright. I defer to the Captain’s judgment. 1900 hours it is,” Max confirms. He levels a wry smirk at him. “Hope you’re going to blow me like you mean it this time, brat.”

Felix scoffs. Unbelievable, this guy. “1900 hours,” he echoes, his defiance rising in his chest again. “Hope you don’t choke, preacher man.”

“Oh, and fellas,” the Captain says, patting SAM on his hulking shoulder. “I’ll be sending SAM here on a break to recharge himself. In the meantime, I expect the both of you to sanitize this kitchen top to bottom. People do actually eat here, you know.”

“Thank you!” Parvati calls out from down the hall.

Felix wants to whine. He knows better not to where the Captain is concerned. Instead, he shares another pained look with Max. Cleaning duty is probably what their antics deserve, if he were honest. 

And maybe, too, the hours of anticipation. He really shouldn’t be this excited for a punishment, should he?

**Author's Note:**

> What was up with that dialogue about Felix stumbling into Max's room? I mean


End file.
